Star-crossed Lovers

Serenity: I felt a sudden moment of solace when you kissed me, the world crumbled below my defiance, my nerves jolted , my universe lost its course.

When you pulled me in, I felt another version of the world, I felt a different kind of defeat, something that I’ll never be able to reminisce, too terrifying, too wretched.

I’ll take a step away from you, until this feeling turn into a dull persistent ache, and maybe in another life, we could have a chance, we could happen, but until then, I need to get away from this madness…from you.


Tommy was oddly happy today, there was something peculiar about the way he grabbed his jacket, or the way he shuffled through his things, or the reluctant glances he so desperately tried to hide when I came barging in the room. He looked very different, his eyes were gleaming with hope and liberation, youth was written all over his face, he smelled so sweet and seductive, like wild roses on a summer day, like floating stardust drifting on an endless firmament. I was in awe.

“Oh, honey, you’re up early, I was just getting ready for work” He said plainly, tucking his jacket in his arms.
“Work? On a Sunday?” I calmly asked, biting my lip as my voice turned raspy and weak.
He quickly gave me a peck on the cheek, “Something came up, I’ll tell you when I get back. Don’t wait up Okay?”
I watched him as he hurried his pace out the door. My eyes burning with disgust and contempt. I know damn well where this lying-cheating-shallow of a man is going.

Big Heart

Six times a week I saw him there. He was the first one to always greet me whenever I arrive at work. He is a big man. You can already assume that he is from Africa or Bangladesh because of his skin colour. His hair is the typical-curly-I-woke-up-like-this kind of hair. He was always the coy type – something that you would expect from a person who came from a destitute household. He barely talked although he seemed chatty around me.

Puso. His name is Puso. It’s an average name, a name that you could easily forget. It doesn’t have a nice ring to it. It’s not even interesting, but there is more to him than meets the eye. There’s something special about Puso. Not just because of the fact that his name means “heart” in my language, but because it makes him who he is. He has a big heart.

He worked as a janitor/maintenance guy in the company where I work. He was the cleaner, the sweeper, the toilet ninja, the dust warrior and the garbage hero. Not one single time did I see him doing nothing, taking a break or getting a snack. He was always doing something, whether it be polishing the windows or mopping the floor. He was practically a robot. A robot that needs to work; that needs to suffer the hardships of life for a chance to change the course of his future. I admire him. I admire his dedication, his commendable fortitude to deal with righteous people and co-workers who think that he is nothing more than an expendable employee – someone who isn’t capable of whining about injustice or maltreatment. He didn’t complain, he didn’t make a fuss, he basically would just shrug his shoulders, look down and not say a thing. He would just go back to what he was doing and act as if nothing would ever break him – no words, no insults, no judgment – nothing could ever rupture his faith: his faith that someday…someday…life would be in his favor. Someday…where no one could tell him what he can and what he cannot do, where no one would be discriminated.

Puso taught me a lot of things, things that I never would have appreciated had I not seen the reality of weakness. I will be like Puso. I will be brave. I will never let anyone violate my worth. I am not going to be defined by stupid and inane perceptions. I will never be daunted by people’s foul and callous judgment. I am my own person.

Luckless Romance

Luckless Romance.


Back in early December last year, I thought it would be just a normal day. I prepped for work, got my stuff ready and took a jeepney to the terminal. On my way to the terminal, I saw you for the first time. Right at that moment, I thought to myself: you were the most beautiful thing my eyes have seen in ages. I looked at you as if I owned that moment. I couldn’t help it, maybe because I knew that it would be the last time I would lay my eyes on your beautiful face. As soon as we reached the terminal, I got off the vehicle and went straight to where the buses were parked, got on one, and waited for more passengers to come. I was in one of the back seats, looking out the glass window; thinking about how my day would go. Typical bus ride…until I saw you again, entering the vehicle with a friend whom I’ve known from Facebook. I found it kind of weird since I was just thinking about you and you suddenly just popped out of nowhere. Destiny must’ve been laughing at me at that time. I savored every second while my eyes feasted on your face, wondering if I could find you if I searched for you on Facebook. But I didn’t have the courage to do it at that time, so I told myself, I would let it go.

Two days after, one of our mutual friends’ posts appeared on my Feed, and you suddenly crossed my mind. So then I tried searching you on his friends list and, damn, it wasn’t easy. He has thousands of friends! Naturally, I grew tired, but just as I was about to give up, I saw a thumbnail image of a guy who looked like you. I clicked on it, browsed through the photos and said to myself, “This is the fucking guy I’ve been looking for.” I didn’t add you right away as I still couldn’t pluck up the courage to do so. Instead, I Liked all your photos, in the hope of making you notice me at least. After two days, you liked all my photos back. That’s when I was finally able to send you a friend request – which you accepted in a matter of seconds. I messaged you with a Like symbol. You replied the same, but with a follow-up question asking me if I know you, and how I was able to find you. I didn’t know what to say or how I would respond! I couldn’t admit to you that I stalked you – you might’ve freaked out or something. Before I could come up with an excuse though, you asked if I was the guy in the jeepney – where I first saw you – with a tattoo on my arm. I answered “yes”. That was our first conversation, which led to many more. We had been talking for more than two weeks. It was fun. Normal. I didn’t think it was something special by that time. I find you so beautiful but I knew I wouldn’t stand a chance at all, so I didn’t really give it much thought. Looking at your photos was kinda overwhelming to me, at the same time, satisfying – but that was just it.

Fast-forward to this day, we’ve known and have been talking to each other for almost three weeks now. I was on my way to the office for a quick training at around 7:00 PM. You texted me that you were on your way to the mall to buy something from the pharmacy. I asked which mall it is because my office is located in one of the two malls in the area. You said you would go to the other one but later decided that you would go to where my office is at. I asked if we could hang out; perhaps grab a drink or a bite to eat after my training. You agreed and told me you were willing to wait for me. I was so damn excited that I couldn’t even begin the training, nor did I know how to end it. That was our first rendezvous. We met up at the mall and headed out to the local bar and had some beer. It was pretty awkward though – you not being able to look straight at me, and me not being able to do the same. I didn’t know how to start a conversation, but thank God, I somehow managed to do so by asking you how you were and how things were going. Your responses seemed to trigger all the magical things to happen. We have the same taste when it comes to movies. You happened to like those ones I love so badly. We agreed that my favorite movie, The Fault In Our Stars, is damn good. You even recited some of my favorite lines, and no one has ever done that before. Your favorite scene is my favorite scene. I don’t know, but I have never talked to anyone who has the same thoughts and perspective as I do. That moment, I knew, you were the one. You’re the fucking one I want to spend more of my time with. Then you told me you liked me. You even questioned why I liked you. And I told you, I liked you because of the spontaneity of the conversations we were having. I knew it was serendipity. I didn’t even know that it could happen in real life. But it DID happen. Fuck. I was the happiest. Then you kissed me randomly while we were in the bar. I asked if I could take that kiss back which you had just stolen. You allowed me to kiss you back. Right then and there, I was certain that things would be great ahead of us. You told me not to go home because it was already late. You were worried that I might not get home safely so you asked me to stay at your place – to which I, without hesitation, agreed upon. How could I disagree? Lol. While we were on our way to your place, you held my hand for the first time. Great conversations flowed very instantly after that.

On our next meet-up, you went to my place. We ate, and grabbed beers again. Same spontaneous conversation. You made me like you even more. Every single time. Every second. We had our first argument about a random topic but we reconciled after. I prepared myself for more disagreements to come. I bowed down to always make it up to you. Anyway, when it was about to go home, you got on the jeepney with me, and kissed me before I left. Your smile is a treasure. I didn’t even want to get out of that moment but we had to.
Third meet-up, you met few of my friends. We got drunk. You started to know my not-so-good side whenever I’m drunk: I can’t even remember things. Then we met up again, where you told me that I was so wasted.
My only prayer that time was, when you get to know the things you don’t like about me, I hope that you would focus on the things you like about me. I wanted you to focus on the beautiful memories that we shared. Then one time, you told me you were going out to drink with a friend. Then the next time we met, I asked you who that person was and then you said it was The Nurse. I was shattered and devastated. I didn’t want to get jealous but I couldn’t help myself, because that guy is the same guy I flirted with long before I met you, so let’s just say, I know the drill. You told me you slept in his place. I didn’t ask for the details because, hell, I knew it would be too painful for me. You stared at me and noticed how different I was behaving. I was silent. You didn’t know but when we were eating at this restaurant in a mall and that time I went to the comfort room, I cried my eyes out. I was hurting. I was hurting because I wasn’t sure whether you like me still or you no longer did. Or maybe I was just overthinking or something. I didn’t know.

After several more dates and meet-ups, that’s when things started to change. You no longer respond when I say “I love you” or “fuck you” even – (excerpted from TFIOUS). You barely responded to my texts; never answered any of my calls.

I can feel it. This time, I’m the only one that’s clinging to this, to us. Was there ever an “us”? We fought for the first time. And it was so bad that we had decided to call it quits. But I still texted you the next day because, fuck, I can’t live without you. I mean, I can, definitely, but being with you is better than being alone. I want you because I need you. I needed you because you make my days better. I needed you because you’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever been mine. We fought after my 25th birthday. All my plans were gone. And I spent the entire day just lying on my bed, crying and blaming myself – had I been perfect enough to love you, you would’ve liked me as much. We fought again and that’s probably the last conversation we had. You’re no longer replying to my text and I’m doing the same.
But let me tell you one thing, I hope you can focus on the good side of me. I hope you never made me see myself as a bad person. I hope that you gave me a chance to say how much I love you and I hope you feel the same way too.



–  Words and letters by a very good friend of mine who I totally admire. I hope that someday, you never have to feel this kind of pain again, someone is going to come to your life, and these will all be just a bad memory, a distant heartache.



He walked in like a sudden storm meant to make me astounded, like a fire I was drawn to him, he was wearing his college uniform, his hair uncombed as it seemed, fit perfectly with his lonely set of eyes and I only paid attention to him, I thought to myself; Who in their right mind would go out in public without even fixing his hair? Him apparently, I was amused. He was weird and prosaic, but to me he was perfect.


He was the one I never had, he was the side of heaven that I wasn’t given the one chance to explore, he was an ocean of mystery, of undiscovered places, of different subtle emotions. I was a star he didn’t notice, an idea at the back of his mind he didn’t share.


I watched him fall in love with someone else, many times I wished it was me, it was me who’s keeping him up at night, or bringing colour to his existence and I could only wish, for he was only a wish, an impossible wish.


He is now a memory, a memory that I will forever reminisce with a sigh of wonder.

Poisonous fruit

For years I’ve kept this secret ensconced in the deepest part of my soul, underneath my darkest desire of revenge, creeping in every second of my hatred and disgust, crawling in my skin with malice and somber intentions. I was a captive of the past, a bitter past. And you were my curse, my nightmare, my anathema.

I knew from the moment I met you that you will eventually be a part of my endless heartache, and damn I wasn’t wrong, I was completely spot on, you were a chronic disease, you were my punishment, you made me hate myself, you made me hurt myself, you exasperated the devil in me, subdued my conscience, disturbed my most sardonic cogitation.

But you were so pretty, you were every man’s dreams, what am I compared to you? My physical appearance is a far cry from your fascinating-youthful beauty, I couldn’t compete with anything like that. And then the betrayal happened, my happiness has been jeopardized by the people I trusted the most, they all participated in the conspiracy that you created, I died, you were the death of me, every breath I take was a poison of your existence, I despise you for everything I had to feel, For everything I had to lose. You were a poisonous fruit, and I had a taste of your sin.

You broke me. You destroyed my life. You put a bullet to my head, you pulled the trigger of loathing, you made me hate, you turned me into an inferior monstrosity. You killed me. Over and over again.

Thankfully, I’ve moved on. We are both leading a normal life, you got married, I am equally blessed and happy with my life now, I get sad sometimes when I think about it but it doesn’t break me that much anymore, we are both adult now trying to make amends. I realised that hate doesn’t have a place in my heart anymore, I couldn’t tolerate any more of the burden. I don’t wanna be suffocated by the same aversion for the rest of my life, I refuse to be consumed by my past. We are free, free from guilt, from distrust, from everything that has been holding us for years.

She has been long forgiven. She is now a friend of mine. We are starting to know each other on a different light. I look forward to a future of friendship with her. Unforeseen? Absolutely. Possible? You bet.


Ben was not in the mood to work today, he was cowering in bed trying to find solace from the silence of his room, trying to keep himself from absolute obscurity, straining to forget about what happened yesterday. Yes, yesterday could be the worst ordeal he had to endure on his painful journey of emancipation, through years of abuse, of being a prisoner of his own character.

He sobbed like a small child, deprived of innocence and the right to choose, the right to love, the right to be his own self, the severity of his anguish is already boundless without adding a layer of guilt and decadence. He started crying. His tears of sadness and turmoil fell from his weary and defeated eyes, the little pride left on his scarred soul slowly disintegrated, vanishing with myriad of torment and secrecy.

So what if I have a heart of a woman?
I am human too.
Why can’t I be myself?
Why can’t I feel normal?
Why do I have to pretend?
Why do I have to hide?
Why do I have to be scared?
Why do I have to be humiliated?
Why can’t they see my heart?
My soul?
why do I have to be an outcast?
Am I a disease?
Am I an abomination?
Am I a curse?

He whispered between endless sobs. But there was no answer, not even a hint of rejuvenation or hope or pillar. The world didn’t answer. He received no answer. The world stayed silent and still, but it gave him a condescending smile, a look of disgust and scorn, a vague look of understanding. Ben screamed, he kicked and punched and clenched his teeth, for he knew , he knew what the world meant, he knew.


“Be yourself. Come out, but the moment you shut that closet door, we will show you what hell looks like, and boy, it’s going to be ugly, and you will never come out of it alive” –  The World.